Ballads By Beedle: The Bard's Tales In Rhyme
by stella8h8chang
Summary: Click here for a collection of rhyming retellings of Beedle the Bard’s fairytales. ‘Fountain of Fair Fortune’, ‘Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump’ and the ‘Tale of the Three Brothers’, now up! Please read and review and mention me on Pottercast! .
1. The Ballad of Babbity Rabbity

_**The Ballad of Babbity Rabbity**_

**Written by Beedle the Bard and retold by stella8h8chang with the help of JK Rowling**

Once upon a time, in a faraway land,  
Was a muggle king, who longed to understand  
The secrets of magic, which you well know,  
Run in your blood, and only birth will bestow.

-

But the greedy king gathered a Brigade  
Of Witch-Hunters, with black hounds to aid  
The grasping of magic in his greedy paws  
But he was outsmarted – because –

-

Wizards and witches hid from him with ease.  
When the King announced that he sought expertise  
From an _Instructor of Magic_, a charlatan cunning  
Smelled fortune and fame, and came running.

-

He was no more than a muggle himself  
Yet he tricked the foolish king out of his wealth  
With a few cheap illusions of eye and ear,  
So he became boastful and lost all his fear.

-

A washer-woman watched the charlatan bold  
Pull plain twigs from a tree. But the King he told:  
"These are magic wands, but they will not submit  
To your will, until Your Majesty is worthy of it."

-

She watched them shout nonsense at the sky,  
From dawn every day, till evening was nigh,  
Until she could no longer ignore –  
Those stupid muggles – how she laughed and she roared!

-

The King was humiliated, rightly so,  
And demanded his magic at once would show,  
In front of his subjects the following day,  
Or else the charlatan would with his life pay.

-

The charlatan, petrified, wanted to flee,  
But this only made the King even more angry,  
Threatening to send the Brigade immediately,  
He said, "You will die if anyone else laughs at me."

-

Now the charlatan was furious too,  
Needing somewhere and someone to vent to,  
He ran to the cottage and the cause of his woes,  
The washer-woman, whom everyone knows,

-

Was more than a little old lady named Babbity –  
For she was a witch of great gravity.  
The charlatan watched her giving her wand a scrub,  
As a couple of sheets washed themselves in a tub.

-

An idea struck this most unscrupulous muggle,  
He burst in and seized her; seeing she did not struggle,  
He deemed she would easily bow to his demands,  
To worm her way out of the wrath of the Brigands.

-

But Babbity was very much wiser than him  
With a smile, she said, "I will do anything  
Within my power to help you, my dear."  
For how could a muggle cause a witch any fear?

-

"You must conceal yourself in a bush tomorrow morn,  
And when you see the King with his 'wand' drawn  
You must perform all the spells he wishes, one by one."  
But Babbity answered, "What if it cannot be done?"

-

"_That's_ not possible," laughed the charlatan with glee,  
Convinced of his cleverness and the King's stupidity.  
"Your magic is stronger than anything the mule  
Could dream up in his head; he is easy to fool."

-

Thus it happened that the court assembled,  
To witness the tricks they thought magic resembled.  
Upon a stage, the King made a hat disappear  
And at once the crowd noisily started to cheer.

-

Now pointing his twig at his favourite horse  
He raised it high into the air with invisible force  
As the raucous muggles continued to applaud,  
He wondered what to do next, the great fraud.

-

Until the Captain of the Witch-Hunting Brigade,  
Whose dog had been poisoned by a flowering nightshade,  
Carrying the corpse, came beseeching the King  
To bring the dog back to life and end his suffering.

-

So the King touched his twig to the cur's black nose,  
But nothing happened – since everyone well knows  
That no magic can raise the dead – and so the revered  
Babbity smiled, as the crowd snickered and sneered.

-

The King's voice boomed out as he began to bellow,  
"Why did the spell fail?" But the charlatan fellow  
Indicated the bush where Babbity dwelled,  
And said, "A wicked witch is blocking the spell!"

-

With that, the real witch leapt up out of hiding,  
And the hunters set their hounds on her snarling,  
But at the base of an old tree she vanished again,  
Leaving the dogs barking and scrabbling in vain.

-

"She has turned herself into a crab-apple fruit!"  
Said the charlatan, not calling off the pursuit,  
For fearful that Babbity would return vengefully,  
He ordered his men to cut down the tree.

-

Cried the crowd, "This is what happens to all evil witches!"  
As the tree was chopped, smoothly, without any hitches.  
But as the trunk fell, with an almighty thump,  
A loud cackling was heard from inside the stump.

-

"Real witches and wizards cannot be killed  
By being cut in half," said a voice that filled  
The charlatan with dread. "Believe me, it's true!  
See how your charlatan bears being cut in two!"

-

At this, the charlatan confessed, begging for mercy,  
And was dragged to the dungeons to rot eternally.  
But Babbity was not finished with the muggle King –  
She would cure him of his conceited thinking.

-

"Your actions have brought down a curse on your realm,  
When you harm a witch or a wizard, you will be overwhelmed  
By a pain so great you will wish for death unashamed."  
With that, the King fell to his knees and proclaimed:

-

"I swear to protect all wizards and witches henceforth  
They may make magic freely, far away from my court,  
The stump cackled again; she still was not finished.  
"Now build a statue of me by this tree you diminished

-

"To remind you of your foolishness, and the vow you uphold."  
So the shamed King promised her a statue of gold.  
The muggles slunk away, wrapt in quietness,  
And doomed to oblivious short-sightedness,

-

Unable to notice the happenings by the stump –  
For out hopped an old rabbit, merry and plump,  
Out from a hole that was hidden beneath,  
With a familiar wand between its white teeth!

-

For Babbity Rabbity was none other than  
An animagus! Returning to human form, she began,  
Turning her back on the kingdom, to go on her way  
Though her golden statue stands watch to this day.

* * *

_**A/N: Babbity Rabbity's story is not mine; having enjoyed the Amazon synopsis of JKR's magical fairytale (which Ron mentioned in Deathly Hallows), I thought I'd use some poetic licence in transforming it! Please forgive me for any terrible rhymes, and do watch out for "Another One Through And Through", a one-shot, coming soon, that will make use of a few of these verses! **_

_**In the meantime, why not check out the short and sweet "Seven Ways", the epic and poetic mystery "Time Loves to Fly", or one of the other-one shots on my profile? **_

_**Alternatively, you could navigate over to the page of WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot, for the unrestrainedly hilarious novel "Daphne Greengrass and the 6th Year from Hell", or some of her other short pieces!**_

_**Or…you could always just leave a review! If you guys like this, I may do "The Tale of the Three Brothers" next!**_


	2. Elegy to the Three Brothers

_**The Elegy of the Three Brothers**_

**Written by Beedle the Bard and retold by stella8h8chang with the help of JK Rowling**

There once were three brothers of extraordinary power,  
Wizards who made great Merlin himself cower.  
And there is a legend that many have told  
About one night they travelled a long, lonely road.

-

At twilight they were walking and winding their way,  
Not knowing how well they'd remember that day,  
When they reached a river too deep for wading,  
Too dangerous for swimming, now that light was fading.

-

But because they were skilled in magical art,  
'Twas easy for them to conjure a safe path.  
Waving their wands, a bridge appeared  
Across the treacherous water, so that it could be cleared

-

But they were halfway when they found their route  
Blocked by a figure – a great, black-robed brute  
Bearing a scythe and up to no good.  
A voice came out from under the hood:

-

"Who dares to defy me, none other than Death?  
This river is mine, to drown travellers in its depths."  
But seeing that they were well-equipped with wit,  
He would have to outsmart them, so Death changed his pitch.

-

"I must congratulate you for your superb magic," he said.  
"A prize has been earned by each of your quick heads.  
Just name it and I will upon you bestow  
A gift for your journey before you onwards go

-

The oldest brother wanted for himself  
A wand that could triumph over any else,  
A wand worthy of a wizard that had conquered Death,  
Who should come off in every duel as the best.

-

So Death went to an a tree on the bank of the river,  
And fashioned a wand of Elder for the Eldest hither,  
Thus he was satisfied, the combative fellow,  
But Death knew quite well that he would not mellow.

-

The second brother, an even more arrogant man,  
Decided to shame Death, and wanted none other than  
The power to recall those from the land of the Dead  
So in reply to this, the Grim Reaper said,

-

Plucking a stone from the earth at their feet,  
"You must recall in your mind whom you want to meet,  
Turn this three times over in the palm of your hand  
And they will be summoned back to your land."

-

Then Death turned to the brother, smallest of the three  
Expecting a request three times as haughty  
But the youngest was the humblest and also most wise –  
He did not trust Death not to pursue his demise.

-

"Please give me something that will enable me  
To go forth from this place untraceably."  
With that, Death, though reluctantly,  
Gave the young man his own Cloak of Invisibility.

-

They thanked their giver, and talked together with wonder,  
And admired the gifts of their fateful encounter.  
Death stood aside, allowing the brothers to pass,  
But this togetherness was not destined to last.

-

The first brother travelled alone far and wide,  
And reaching a village, sought out a fight,  
Which he won with his unbeatable wand, of course,  
Which he boasted of over his enemy's corpse.

-

"One week ago I snatched this wand from none other  
Than the Grim Reaper Himself, giving me invincible power!"  
But later, another wizard crept upon his drunken form,  
Stole his wand and slit his throat, before a bloody dawn.

-

And while Death took the first brother for his own.  
The second brother had returned to his home,  
And taking out the stone which had been his prize,  
He turned it over in his outstretched hand thrice.

-

To his amazement and utter delight,  
The figure of a girl appeared, shrouded in white light,  
The maiden whom he had once hoped to marry,  
Before Death untimely did her away carry.

-

But her face was forlorn, and her skin was cold,  
For she did not belong in the mortal world.  
As if separated from him by some veil,  
His lover suffered, and soundlessly wailed.

-

By hopeless longing, driven insane,  
The middle brother, just exactly the same  
As his elder brother, became the victim of Death,  
Though by his own hand; he was so bereft.

-

Years passed and Death searched for the last of the three  
But their paths never crossed – the brother walked free.  
For only when he'd reached a great age he removed  
From his shoulders the cloak, still silvery and smooth.

-

"My son, this is yours now, until you pass it on.  
For my time has come to leave this life and move on.  
I do not fear death, and neither should you –  
Of all of tales told about him, this one is most true."

-

And so Death came for him in the end  
And, greeting him just like a dear old friend,  
The brother cheerfully breathed his last breath,  
And that is the story of the Master of Death.

* * *

_**A/N: The Three Brothers' story is not mine, it's JK Rowling's. I just thought I'd use some poetic licence and transform it! Hope you didn't mind the areas where I stray from perfect rhyme in a feeble attempt to add to the meaning (I'm loving Emily Dickinson's slant rhymes).**_

_**Coming soon are "Hark, the Warlock's Hairy Heart", "Ode to the Fountain of Fair Fortune" and "Clang-Clop went the Hopping-Pot"! In the meantime, why not check out the epic and poetic mystery "Time Loves to Fly", the novella, "Danse Macabre", or my two-shot on Sirius and Alphard Black, "Moon River"? **_

_**Alternatively, you could navigate over to the page of WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot, for the unrestrainedly hilarious novel "Daphne Greengrass and the 6th Year from Hell", or some of her other shorts!**_

_**Or…you could always just leave a review!**_

P.S. Happy Birthday to David Tennant (Barty Crouch Jnr/The Tenth Doctor) who turns 37 today!


	3. Ode to the Fountain of Fair Fortune

_**Ode to the Fountain of Fair Fortune  
**_

**Written by Beedle the Bard and retold by stella8h8chang with the help of JK Rowling**

Once a year, a lush garden opens its gate  
To muggles, wizards and witches forsaken by fate  
Because of their faith in a Fountain in store  
Which could give them Fair Fortune forever more.

-

Like others, I tell of star-crossed souls who braved  
The perils of journeying in order to bathe  
In the waters of this Fountain at the garden's centre,  
Protected by strong magic so just one could enter.

-

Believing the Fountain would bequeath a fresh start,  
Outside arrived three witches. One with a broken heart,  
Deserted by her beloved, Amata by name,  
Who hoped the Fountain would ease her longing and pain.

-

There was also Asha, who for years had endured  
A crippling malady no Healer could cure.  
She wanted the Fountain to restore her health,  
So she could live on her own and take care of herself.

-

Last was Altheda, by no means the least mournful,  
Deceived by the sorcerer, Stallsworth the Scornful,  
Horribly humiliated and left quite destitute,  
Now needing to restore her wealth and repute.

-

But because one head is worse off than three,  
The witches decided to work collectively.  
Pooling their efforts to reach the Fountain Fair,  
Choosing the most unfortunate when they got there.

-

And so they joined the waiting flock  
Of weary travellers from all of life's walks.  
As the blessed day dawned, a crack appeared  
In the garden wall – how the hopeful crowd cheered!

-

As green Creepers emerged, choosing as they saw fit,  
Which Unfortunate this year that they would admit.  
They wrapped around Asha, the first of the band,  
Who in turn took hold of Altheda by the hand,

-

Who in turn seized Amata, who shrieked with fright,  
As she realised she was tangled in an armoured knight.  
Thus it happened that they were pulled through the wall,  
And into the garden all four did fall.

-

Quite a predicament, for the Fountain only permits  
_One _Unfortunate to bathe in its midst,  
And now that Amata had let her guard slip,  
There was one more competitor for the lucky dip.

-

But the Knight, "Sir Luckless" the aptly named,  
Was only a muggle, with far less claim  
To the fountain than the witches three,  
So he gave up his quest, but the others disagreed.

-

"You mustn't!" cried Amata, to the Knight,  
"I insist that you join us, so moving is your plight."  
With a sigh, the others echoed their fellow's words,  
Although they would have otherwise preferred.

-

But scarcely had they left the entrance behind,  
When up sprung a white worm, bloated and blind,  
Circling the hill where the fountain stood,  
Opening its foul mouth, it bellowed loud as it could:

-

"Pay me the proof of your pain to pass on."  
At once, each witch whipped out her wand,  
And even Sir Luckless brandished his blade,  
But still the monstrous white menace stayed.

-

Asha's constitution had never been strong -  
Now she wept, much weakened by coming along.  
But unexpectedly, the worm's evil sneers  
Were wiped away with her frustrated tears.

-

But as they ascended, the hill became steep,  
And from within boomed a voice deep:  
"STOP! You shall go on no further  
Until you have paid me the fruit of your labours."

-

Undeterred, the four continued to climb,  
But they got no closer, and after much time,  
Only Altheda still wanted to try.  
"Come on! Come on!" she urged with a cry.

-

She mopped her brow, now hot and wet,  
So that down on the ground fell drops of her sweat.  
Like the worm, the hill drank the salty repast,  
And lessening its slope, allowed them to get past.

-

At the top of the hill, with the fountain in sight,  
Asha, Altheda, Amata and the knight  
Thought their troubles were over, until they saw  
A pool of water, demanding "One thing more..."

-

"This journey will cost you the treasure of your past,"  
And it swirled like a pensieve, silvery and vast.  
And suddenly a plan came to Amata's quick head  
Touching it with her wand, she withdrew a thread

-

Of memories of good times with her love lost,  
Which into the pond round the fountain she tossed.  
Soon stepping-stones in the water arose,  
Leading to the island where the fountain flows.

-

But for Asha this would not mean a happy end  
Burdened by the malady none could mend  
Now exhausted, she collapsed. With difficulty, she said,  
"Do not bother to move me - save yourselves instead…"

-

"Not now!" called Altheda, who had been well-trained  
By her old master Stallsworth in the relieving of pain,  
And rushed round the garden gathering all the plants that there were  
To brew up a broth in an attempt to revive her.

-

Something in the potion from this herbal haul  
Cured Asha's great malady once and for all.  
No longer needing the Fountain thanks to Altheda,  
She declared that the honour should go to her Healer.

-

But the second witch only shook her head proudly,  
For she now had a way out of powerlessness and poverty.  
"Stallsworth always told me my talents were few,  
But now I shall set out alone, knowing this is not true."

-

Amata next spoke up, "Blind as the worm have I been,  
Denying that I loved one so faithless and mean.  
Now all those things that we shared are set free,  
I will wait, with no regrets, for a man worthy of me.

-

"So, Sir Luckless, as you are the one who remains,  
Come claim your reward for your courage and pains."  
Thus, as the day ended, the knight leapt into the font  
Amazed he had gotten nearly all he could want.

-

Now totally certain luck would be on his side  
For his next endeavour – a quest for a bride –  
Begging for the hand and the heart of Amata,  
At her feet he flung himself in rusted armour.

-

Thus Asha was cured, and Altheda encouraged,  
Amata found love, and Sir Luckless his courage.  
And arm-in-arm out through the garden's great gates  
As the sun set, their fortunate futures they embraced.

-

For the merry band all lived long, fruitful lives,  
Happy and content, but still none the wise  
To the secret of the fountain behind the magic wall  
Whose waters still carry no enchantment at all.

* * *

**_A/N: To celebrate the official release of Beedle, I thought I'd update with my favourite story in rhyme! Oh, and I apologise for taking liberties with the story (eg – the hill, which doesn't exactly follow what's written in the book) but I wrote the majority of this with only the Amazon summaries for reference.  
_**

**_Coming soon - a Christmas Carol with a difference: Hark! The Warlock's Hairy Heart. But in the meantime you can check out "To Dwell on Dreams" which features my OTP, Albus/Gellert. If slash isn't your thing, "Danse Macabre", which deals with Bellatrix Lestrange's coming-of-age may interest you._**

**_John Noe, if you're reading this, please give me a shout-out on Pottercast; I love your show and I never miss an episode!_**

**_And a second shout-out - to WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot, who came up with Healer Stallsworth, an ancestor of whom I refer to in this poem. If you'd like to find out more about Stallsworth, check out her fantastic "Daphne Greengrass" novels!_**

**_Thank you again for your support!  
_**


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